


Vii9let 8l99d2

by twii2ted_8333335



Series: Homestuck Sexcanons [18]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Clothed Sex, Come Inflation, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Dry Humping, F/M, Gills, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Toys, Trilling, Xeno, Xenobiology, earfins, orgy mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twii2ted_8333335/pseuds/twii2ted_8333335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well this is an interesting development. </p><p> <i>"Sol,"</i></p><p> You didn't really think to expect this out of your relationship with him.</p><p> <i>"Come on, Kanny — "</i></p><p>Might as well make the best of it, you suppose. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Don't you dare."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sollux ==>

**Author's Note:**

> I have this labeled as Ampora Bonertown on my computer and that's almost what this was gonna be here too oops
> 
> Based off [this](http://homestucksexcanons.tumblr.com/post/66288259733/jay-z-here) headcanon

Be Sollux:

"Sol," ED breathes out your name in an exhaled whine, hands snaking around your chest from behind you. There's still the back of your chair separating your back from his chest but even through that you can feel his naturally cooled temperature radiating from him, and, if your thinkpan is still working properly, that's not all he's excreting right now. You can practically _taste_ never mind smell the pheromones and the hormones and whatever other aroused instinctual substances are clouding your pan already. 

He whines your name again right by your ear, hands running along your chest, ruffling your shirt, exposing your stomach. When his hands go down again and the cool of his fingertips trail over your rapidly heating skin, he tilts his fingers, dragging his nails just lightly over your skin. Yellow lightly trails behind their path. 

The chair wobbles when you quickly stand and topples over when you try to get to Eridan through it. You are going to pail him until he can't move anymore.

You grab onto his cheeks and pull him into a long, hard kiss. You nip at his lips and he makes the most _amazing_ trilling sound in the back of his throat. He hooks a leg half around your thigh and just grinds against you, and you can feel the material seeping onto your pants from his nook, can feeling his bulge lashing against the upper part of your thigh, aching to be at least out of the confines of his stupid striped pants. You think he could get off like this if you let him with the rate he's going, but you're starting to feel the sex craze too. You're not letting him get away with just a little humping and pathetic whimpers of your name.

You half lift him, half use your psionics to hold him up as you rush to your concupiscent room. He grinds against you the whole way there, staining both your clothing items, groaning into your ear and nibbling at the edges of it when he's not. He's going to drive you insane before you can even get his pants off. You drop down onto the concupiscent platform with ED in your lap, and you both start frantically grasping at each other, kissing and biting and he keeps groaning at everything you do, everything he does. He trills your name and presses his hips down towards your legs and then up towards your stomach, simultaneously trying to pleasure his nook and his bulge. You growl at him when you can't take it anymore, savoring the pleased little whimper he makes when you practically tear his pants off. 

He's reluctant to let you go but when you tell him to get on the platform, he goes. He lays on his back, legs spread, and it occurs to you then that he's presenting himself to you. It does wonders for your more primal instincts, makes you want him even more than you already did before, but it distracts you more than anything while you're trying to take your pants off. Your hands are trembling from the lust and adrenaline and the fact that _he's in heat_ and he came to you and you don't know how to handle this. Trolls don't have heat cycles often, not that you know of. You never really had the need to research all that. You didn't even know trolls still had cycles. Maybe it's a sea-dweller thing.

ED trills again, a desperate, keening noise that you're surprised to hear your own response to. You don't remember having ever made a noise like that before.

You're on the platform the instant your feet are free from your pants, crawling over Ampora and avoiding his hands when they try to grab at your hair. Nothing would be accomplished from getting tangled up in his grip. For extra precautionary measures, you take his wrists into your one hand and keep them pinned above his head. It's a sight you could definitely get used to.

His hips lift up to meet yours, lips babbling out words that you can't understand since you weren't raised to know sea-dweller language but you're pretty sure he's just begging you to fuck him at this point, so you give him what he wants. You press your bulge in him quick enough that he doesn't seem dissatisfied but still not completely slamming into him. You may not be strong enough to hurt him on a regular basis but you know what it's like to a have a sore nook. It's not fun. And maybe you're just pitying him a little, because you know he wouldn't have hesitated to make you a little sore if the roles were reversed, but that seems to happen with all your quadrants. Your kismesis is getting a little red, and your matesprit, when you get one, will probably see hints of black. 

"S-Sol," he gasps out your name in broken syllables while you pound into him, hands grasping at thin air, nook clenching and toes curling. "Sol-Sol -- Sol, please, givve -- put your other bulge in me -- Sol, please," He breaks off into a string of gasps and more sea-dweller tongue and you're left wondering how hard it was just to get that much of a normal language out. 

You don't waste time. You pull back enough for your other bulge to press inside his nook, and it's a tight fit, but ED makes this noise of pure contentment, and his earfins and gills flutter so it's gotta be okay, at least for now. 

You blank out for a few minutes, overwhelmed by the stimulation both your bulges are getting. You're running on autopilot and listening to your kismesis gasp and groan and telling you not to stop because he's going to come, which is so cliche and you think he's doing it on purpose somehow.

"Fucking inthufferable little prick," you growl out before being forced to stop because he's so tight when he comes that you can't actually move without the risk of hurting him past a bit of sore muscles. You reach your own orgasm not long after him, filling him up with material that just adds to what's already in him since your bulges practically plugged him up. His stomach is so big and the sight triggers some instinct in your head. You have this want to protect him and keep him close, even if he is your kismesis, because he's vulnerable right now and he needs all the protection he can get.

You collapse yourself next to him, listening to him pant and watching him shift for a little while, trying to figure out what you're going to have to expect while he's like this.

He curls up next to you as best he can with his stomach still bulging out like that, purring and trilling and still secreting pheromones that have your bulges twitching weakly in their sheathe. It's going to be a long couple of perigees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost my erisol touch in all honesty


	2. Kankri ==>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh  
> Wow  
> No extra headcanon for this but I did get a little inspired by [this post](http://gummypron.tumblr.com/post/114687509750/been-thinkin-about-cronkri-with-kankri-and-his)  
> Nervous sweating//

Be Kankri:

You've quite adjusted to Cronus coming to you in a bad mood. Generally, he finds you to be a comfort zone, somebody he can rely on to cheer him up, even if you're just holding his hand or sitting near him, which is usually all you have to do. He used to press for more but now he takes what he can get from you, especially after you've yelled at him enough times that you really don't care for physical contact.

However, when he approaches you tonight, he does seem to be in a particularly awful mood. His brow is furrowed and he has a light sheen of sweat on his visible skin. His hair is messily slicked back, earfins dropped downward but twitching erratically. You don't think you've ever seen him this down before.

Naturally, you go up to him, to try and coax him into speaking his thoughts to you. Of course, you admittedly may have gone a little overboard in your inspiration speech, which commonly happens when you speak to anyone, but in all honesty you don't think you deserved being yelled at. It's never happened to you before and it's what tips you off that Cronus is in a genuinely horrid mood.

"Shut. Up. You are so fucking annoying, you knowv that? Even Mituna knowvs when it's probably a good time to quit his endless babbling. It wouldn't hurt if every once in a vwhile you shut your mouth and let things happen vwithout your constant fucking interference -- " He goes on for a while longe, just as you would if you had felt threatened or triggered and you honestly feel terrible for putting him into this type of rant. You glance down, feeling like a scolded child, and it comes as a surprise to see that beneath the front of his jeans, Cronus' bulge is squirming and staining the usual black fabric. Well, no wonder he's so uptight today. He always seems a little off when he's aroused and yet today it seems to be ten times more intense.

"Cronus," his fins twitch at the sound of his name, and a low growl escapes from his throat, but now that you realize what's going on here he seems less intimidating. You can tell he's aroused and annoyed by it. His white-out pupils are wide and he's sweating more, likely overheating even despite his blood and the little amount of clothing he does wear. "I don't mean to interrupt or interfere, as you would say, but I do believe that I can solve your problem before this all gets too out of hand, if that is alright with you?"

He seems to have calmed down considerably now that he's had his quick outburst. He stares at you with this utterly pitiful look that makes your pusher skip a beat. You quietly hush him when he tries to speak and his voice cracks a little. You kiss him, slow and soft to start with, to make certain that he'll stay calm for the most part. You can feel his bulge against your hip, wriggling and aching for contact.

And then it hits you. A large rush of hormones and scents and other factors that open your mind and drop down many of your carefully placed walls. You can feel your mental restraints falling defenseless as you register that your quadrantmate is a cycle for whatever reason and it's making you react. 

You're the one who speeds the kiss up to quicker touches of lips, and you're the one who grasps at Cronus' hips, pulling them to rub against yours. He sighs and groans contentedly, hands grasping at your sweater, clinging to you like his afterlife depends on it. 

"Fuck, Kankri — " You kiss him again before he can go on, pressing your tongue inside his mouth. Your hands work at his pants, faster than you've ever wanted them to move in your life. You grip his bulge the moment it's free from his pants, not stopping to listen to his loud noises at the simple touch. You stroke him, long and languid, feeling the entire length. He breaks away from the kiss to bury his face into your shoulder, trembling and pressing up into your hand. 

You take a risk and press your face to his neck. He shudders as your breath brushes over his gills, and you barely have your tongue on the filtering tines before he's releasing his material, coating your hand and your sweater and everything else between the two of you. His pants are practically ruined, dripping violet material down his legs. 

He purrs, satisfied for the moment but his bulge isn't retracting so you know you can't quite let your guard down yet. 

"Platform?" You query, simple, so he can comprehend you properly. He nods against your sweater, panting and still shuddering with every exhale. You work together to head to the room, and he looks so thankful when you pull off his ruined pants, discarding them out of sight. You remove his shirt as well, littering kisses along his side gills and his chest and his neck gills again. He trills, long and high and so desperate that your own bulge throbs almost painfully so just hearing it. 

"Cronus? I know under any normal pailing session we have procedures to go through, but under these circumstances I would like to know if you'd still want to go through with them. After all, your bodily needs are much different than the wants of your own thoughts and — " 

"Kankri." You're not sure whether to be aroused or angered by his tone of voice. "Just shut up and get to fucking me already." 

You growl at him, deep and slow, and you swear he nearly comes again just from that. Your patience is wearing thin with his impudent behavior, even if he isn't entirely in control of it. 

"Very well then. Turn over." 

He shifts on his hands and knees while you go to retrieve his custom made toy. The two of you had come up with a way to keep your celibacy vow and attend to his needs as well, both the sexual and humanized ones. You didn't ask him how he made it or where he got the inspiration for it from; you simply accepted that he made your idea a reality. Just as you accepted that you were both coherent enough to actually take these precautions. You're quite glad for it; it'd be awful if you broke your vows over something as trivial as a troll's biological functions. 

Your hand is still coated in enough material and lubrication that you don't need to even look at the awful bottle. There's just something about human lubrication that feels awful and disgusting and you hate prepping Cronus with it, even if he says he enjoys it more due to how warm it is. 

You used to hate prepping him in general. He has a nook for a reason. But then he explained to you that apparently humans didn't have both and you will admit that you hadn't been aware of that. You were more willing to cater to his extensive needs after that, prepping him and taking more time to find comfortable positions for him to take the strap-on toy easier. It's second natural by now, which you're grateful for since the pheromones are beginning to permeate in the air again and they clog up your head worse than Beforan Flu. 

You likely should have put the toy on before prepping him because your hands are shaking by now and he's half growling and half whining at you to _hurry up_ and it is not helping you in the least bit. You aren't placing any blame however; your thoughts are all sorts of mixed up. 

He hisses when you press inside him, likely a little too eager so that he'll hush up finally, but once you get a rhythm going, he's a panting, pleasured mess again, calling out your name and tearing the platform's sheets with his sharp claws. You hold his hips still as you press your own hips flush against his skin and let out a small groan as he comes again with a shout. There's still a copious amount of material spilling from him even after earlier. 

"Keep going — keep goin' Kankri, please, come on, keep going," he slurs out, pushing back on your hips with more strength than you'd expected him to have. You nod, finding yourself unable to really speak at this point. 

You pull out enough to turn him over and push his legs over your arms. He stares at you with wide, milky eyes. You see no signs of discomfort so you resume your thrusts, taking little time to find a good angle. You don't think he minds anyhow, as long as you're there and pleasuring him while he desperately needs it. 

It takes a few minutes to get him back to a writhing, whining state this time but it's worth it to see how his face contorts and how far his mouth falls open when he's gasping your name louder and louder as you go on longer. 

"Come on Kanny — I knowv you can go harder than tha — ah! Fuck!" You don't even let him finish his statement that time, pounding into his ass with a force that actually makes your muscles sore far faster than normal. You're panting and moving and gripping him tightly, waiting for him to come, wanting him to come so you can watch him this time. 

"Hard enough now, Cronus?" You manage to say, humming and reveling in the gasps and shouts of his affirmation, enjoying the change he makes from Beforan to sea-dweller tongue. 

This time when he reaches his peak, there is a considerably smaller amount of material though by now it's hard to tell when it all cane out at all. Everything seems to be coated in violet and will likely be soaked through for a sweep. Especially if his cycle lasts a long while. You suppose you have a lot of research to do. 

He seems stunned as you pull out of him. Blissful and satisfied, but definitely stunned. He barely moves as you make a weak attempt at tidying and you can barely see him breathing. 

"Cronus? Was I too hard on you?" You eventually ask when the worry eats at you too much. 

He limply shakes his head, just a weak little loll of movement. "Nah, Kan. That was fucking perfect." He breaks off into murmurs that you can't quite understand so you simply hush him and let him half lay on you as he slips into sleep. It's a pleasant situation, a nice ending to the evening.

Or it is until you notice that your own bulge is still squirming and aching beneath your pants and your nook is aching for any type of contact. Even with your resistance and your methods for repressing arousal, you know you won't be sleeping any time soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't understand how this got so long  
> Or so kinky j f c
> 
>  
> 
> Kankri never takes his clothes off btw  
> You didn't read that wrong I promise


	3. Mindfang ==>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like  
> Poured all of my dualfang obsession into this 
> 
> No extras this time around but it gets p intense so

Be Mindfang:

You receive your first clue that there's something off with your Orphaner when he slams you up against a wall on your own ship, hands clutching your coat's collar so hard you think he may tear them. Of course, this isn't the first time he's slammed you against another surface, especially without provocation, but this is the first time in quite a few sweeps where he's swung a fist at you afterwards with what seemed to be the intention to hurt. His form is sloppy though, easy to block, and that's your second clue. There's something wrong with your _precious_ Dualscar. 

He growls at you when you grab his wrist at the second swing, preventing him from pulling back for another one. He can't remove the hand from your collar or he'd be at the disadvantage, and you know how much he _loves_ being in the deep end of a situation. 

"Care to share your thoughts with me, my love?" you coo at him, hand stroking down his arm. You can feel every tense and twitching muscle as you do."What has my kismesis so worked up that he feels the need to take it out on me? Or could it be a who? I may have to thank them." It's very possible that this could start a new series of flings for the two of you and if that's the case, then gratitude is definitely in order. Things were becoming rather stale lately. 

He doesn't answer you at first. You use your free hand to grab his leg and hook it around your waist when he brings it up in another attempt to hit you. His face falls into a scowl. You can feel the grin on yours. You bring him flush against you, watching violet color his face at an alarming rate. 

It takes you a moment but you notice that in your stare off with him, he's begun to wriggle his hips against yours, subtly grinding into your skirts, trying to get at what lies beneath as if there isn't layers upon layers of clothes between you both. You feel his bulge twitching sporadically behind all those layers now that it's been brought to your attention. You laugh softly in realization, purring at him. "Why Dualscar, why didn't you just say you wanted my assistance? I would have been _more_ than glad to help you." Or, help yourself at least. You've been known to leave your partners wanting and perhaps even tied up when you leave them. 

"Just get yer fuckin' clothes off before I tear them off-a ya." His voice sounds strained, like saying just that took every ounce of his concentration. 

"Now, now, is that any say to talk to a lady? Or a quadrantmate?" You laugh softly again, lifting your hips up to meet his. He hisses through gritted teeth, whole body tensing and then shoving against you, hopelessly thrusting his hips against yours. You humor him, allowing him to take control for the moment, to rile you up to his level. You let your face rest in the crook his neck, breathing in his scent, the hints of pheromones and lust permeating through the sea salt and sailor smell. You coo out his name in a way you know drives him crazy, and he returns it with a low trill, one that drives you just as crazy and mad with want. 

You need to get him to a platform before you really do go insane. 

It takes time to pry him off but he does eventually fall back enough for you to start for the private quarters of your ship. You touch him still, coax him to follow you by removing bits of his armor, his clothes until he's bare sweating skin at your door. His bulge is writhing and twisting around itself, secreting more prematerial than you could ever imagine. You're almost afraid to see the state of his nook. 

"Exactly how long were you debating on seeing me? You look ready to shove your _own_ bulge in your nook by now." There's a flash of cognizance in his eyes as it occurs to him that he could've done that. You roll your eyes as he stands there, trembling and stunned, before tugging him into your quarters. You half push him onto the platform. He falls easily, laying immediately on his back. His legs spread a bit but he closes them almost immediately again, seeming to realize what he was doing. What a cute kismesis you have, thinking that he can resist his own body's urges. Not even under normal circumstances can he resist sometimes. 

You undress before even considering him again, just as calmly and slowly as you would if he want writhing and growling on your platform. Your bulge is half unsheathed and your nook is hardly affected, which you find odd all factors considered. You always were hard to please though and you have something of a sexual tolerance built up due to the consistent teasing you do with Dualscar. This is nothing worrying to you, but you don't think your kismesis will be particularly happy with waiting for you. 

You crawl onto the platform, resting yourself on his thighs. Your legs frame him, your bulge twisting around his as it unsheathes further. He makes a low, content groan, relaxing into the platform. He makes another series of moans as you let your bulges tangle and go off on their own. The moment doesn't last long as your dear Orphaner's patience wears incredibly thin. 

"Hurry up and get on me already. I don't have all fuckin' night — " He cuts off with a strained hiss as you rub the tip of his bulge between your forefinger and thumb. It convulses under your touch and you're pretty sure his nook is spasming from the stimulation. With nothing to grasp onto though, he makes this platonically pitiful whine, trilling in stuttered succession, like little hiccups of noise. He's so desperate for some sort of contact. You'd hate to see a younger, less controlled Dualscar during a cycle; you would have left long ago with how he would've acted to you. 

You tug your bulge away from his to stroke properly at his bulge. He sighs at the contact, obviously satisfied with at least _something_. "I don't think you want that, my love." You let another small chuckle pass your lips. "I don't think you want me _on_ you. I think you want me _in_ you, hm~?" You coax your bulge towards his nook, watching him bite his lips as your tip teases him, covering his violet material with cerulean. 

"Don't you dare," he manages to rasp but you can tell that he does want it, that he's just trying to keep up appearances when he's trying to spread his legs more for your bulge.

You shift until he's got his legs around your waist, your bulge tip running along his entrance. You're barely holding back at this point. 

"Are you suuuuuuuure, dear? It would be no problem to have you lie back and take me." It certainly wouldn't be the first time that he's taken your bulge, though usually you're taking his too. 

You can see the hesitation in his lust covered eyes. He wants it, you know he does because you can feel his nook clenching and relaxing each time your bulge so much as twitches over it, but he doesn't want to admit to you or anyone that he'd so willingly submit like this. Not that you intended on bragging about this little escapade to anyone but him. After all, he's not entirely in control of himself here. He doesn't need to know that though. 

He looks away from you, cheeks flushed deep violet, gills and fins fluttering. 

"I need an answer still, Dualscar~."

"Yes! Put yer bulge to use for once, ya damn tease!" 

Well now. You couldn't argue with that could you? You lift his hips up a bit before slamming into him, right to the hilt. He howls, not entirely in pain, and you don't stop. You know how he likes it, hard enough that he can't think, that he doesn't want to think about anything but getting fucked, being filled, being dominated. It doesn't happen often but you know how to take careful notes when the Orphaner takes his rare breaks. And you know you're making this one of his better ones, if all the noises spilling from his lips are any indication. It's a beautiful combination of moans and shouts of various winds, phrase, both in his silly sea-dweller tongue and other languages that you actually recognize. 

"I — " he breaks off with a strangled sound as you brush over a nice little pleasure spot in his nook. "I wish your bulge was fucking — ngh — fucking bigger!" He can hardly speak, cutting off in pants and moans, and you cannot believe he even said that to your face. 

You growl at him, and shift again so that his legs are now practically over your shoulders. You nearly bend him in half as you fuck him now, relentlessly pounding his nook. "Really now?" You pant out. "You can barely take my bulge as it is and you want more? Perhaps I should get my crew down here. Get them to fuck you each individually or maybe two at a time. Would that be satisfying enough for you, _dearest_?"

He groans in response, half covering his eyes with his arm. You grasp at his bulge, tugging at him furiously. 

"Maybe then you'd be loose enough for me to fuck you properly." 

He's gasping out your name by now. Not Marquise, not Mindfang; he is saying your name, chanting it as he comes closer to his peak. And you find yourself growing more and more pitch for the more he says your name. 

"Spinneret..." God, what makes him think he can sound so intimate with you? You did not give him permission to ever say your name under any circumstances. 

"Oh God — " he breaks into a moan of your name again, nook spasming around your bulge as he finally orgasms. And, cliche as it may be, hearing your name on his lips triggers your own. 

You let his legs fall from your shoulders, watching him relax as he basks in his high. You join him on the platform, curled up against his chest, sweaty as it is. He needs a shower badly. 

He makes a disgruntled noise when he seems to be coherent enough again. 

"What's wrong, Dualscar?" You murmur perhaps a little too genuinely. 

"I'm contemplating getting yer crew down here. It bothers me." 

You simply laugh at him. Oh, how fun the next few night will be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus finishes another sexcanon


End file.
